#playing with cardboard tubes

[northwestofinsanity]

Band Incorrect Quote/Scenario -“Frencho-Fryo Time” 1

This is set in the same cursed, crackfic vet hospital AU setting as the Daylight Savings Time special that was “It’s Too Early For This”. Placing under a “keep reading” for that reason in addition to length, but I’ve decided I’ve got no shame when there’s equally wild and cursed memes in different forms floating around here. This time, featuring members of both Styx and Squeeze, as the main bands I’ve done this AU with (though a few one-off members of other bands have been in it in all my documents).

*“Frencho-Fryo Time”, or alternatively, “Going Frencho-Fryo” is slang for the point of overtiredness where everyone starts getting silly and giggly over everything. (Synonymous with being “loopy”, “punchy”, “crackhead hours”, or “going cuckoo for cocoa puffs”, etc). Shenanigans ensue!

-It’s about 4:30 in the afternoon, and there is a gap in the schedule due to a traffic accident on one of the main roads, leading several appointments to be late or cancelled. This has created a lag in-between mid-afternoon appointments, so everyone is getting chores done in the downtime, and the stark difference and loss of momentum after a very hectic morning has everyone feeling a bit silly-

Glenn Tilbrook: *In the surgery prep corner, cutting paper drape material off a boxed roll, lined up to guide tapes on the counter marking the proper size, and then accordion-folding the drapes so that they're ready to wrap inside packs with the surgical tools*

Tommy Shaw: *At one of the treatment tables/“tub-sinks” with the big clean laundry bin, working on folding a bunch of it*

Jools Holland: *Comes strutting through the swinging door from reception into the back treatment room and leans against the counter with a smirk, side-eyeing Tommy and Glenn mischievously, as if just trying to see how long he can get away with being there staring them down before someone says something*

Glenn Tilbrook: *Looks up from very meticulously folding a drape to make it perfectly lined up, as he would be alright with doing nothing less, and looks over to Jools* “Finish the drug inventory in the front closet, or did you just get bored with it? Because if you’ve found yourself bored with it and in need of something else to do, I believe Tommy could probably use some help with folding the laundry!”

Tommy Shaw: *Blushes and hides a silent giggle behind a king-sized bedsheet he is hardcore struggling to fold neatly, due to only being able to hold it up but so high off the ground, and doing it alone rather than with anyone to hold the other end while he lines it up. He groans when while trying to drape it over the tub sink to help line it up, he accidentally knocks a muzzle down into the tub through the gap in the removable grate top*

Jools Holland: “Oh, there’s lots of excitement to be had in the supply closet! My favorite is when someone hasn’t screwed the lid back on a bottle properly, and you go to pick it up to check the expiration date and spill the pills everywhere! It’s a fantastic frenzy, I must say. Though it’s not a very good time to pick it all up.”

Glenn Tilbrook: *Looks like he’s trying not to giggle, then gets a rare, devilish grin on his face* “Are you telling me you were the one to spill the pills all over the floor in there and cause the big shout we heard yesterday, Julian?”

Tommy Shaw: *Does a double-take* “Jools, I didn’t think you liked being called by your full name, or if anyone was allowed to!”

Jools Holland: "I'll tell you that you wouldn't be entirely wrong. It depends on the situation. I do find most of the time, I actually prefer it from my mates who knew me before my nickname was a thing”

Glenn Tilbrook: [Pulls the last bit of drape paper off the roll in the box, gets this silly grin and light in his eyes, pulls the cardboard tube out, holds it up, and shouts into it with a projection like he's announcing things] "JULIAN..."

Jools Holland: "Ai-yi-yi..." *Shakes his head and walks back through the door to up front giggling*

Larry Gowan: [Walks in past Jools with an Australian Cattle Dog mix on a leash, and carrying a bag of supplies, as the dog has just arrived for boarding, and grins, gesturing grandly toward the dog as he stops beside the treatment counter and sets the bag down]. "This is Ted!"

Glenn Tilbrook: [Walking across the room with the tube, and tips up like a megaphone again, booming into it as deeply as he can make his voice go] "TED!"

Tommy Shaw: *Folding laundry on a tub sink, and catches a fit of the giggles over this, between Glenn with the tube, and the fact that he thinks Ted is a funny name for a dog*

Glenn Tilbrook: *Also starts laughing, and puts the tube into the recycle bin beside the break room door*

Tommy Shaw: “No, don’t throw that away yet -let me see that!” *Finishes folding a sheet, puts it down, and goes over and grabs the tube out of the recycle bin, then tries to bonk it hard against the break room door frame with an anticlimactic thud* “OHHH, that was SO disappointing -it should have bonked LOUDER than that!” *Raises the tube up to shout in it* “Booooo!” *Shoves it back down in the trash*

Glenn Tilbrook: *Nearly trips on his way back to the surgery counter when Tommy does this and goes into one of his wild, gut-cackles*

Larry Gowan: *Standing there, laughing while waiting for a technician to come free and do the check-in exam on ‘Ted’ the dog* “The tube is too narrow, and the walls are too thick! We need to call the manufacturer and tell them to change the design of it! We deserve some fun after cutting and folding all the drapes that come out of that if you ask me!”

Glenn Tilbrook: “Why, you tell them that, alright! Somebody needs to!” *Pulls the new box of drape material that was staged in the cabinet of surgery supplies, decides that he’s had enough of making drapes for now, and goes over to help Tommy fold the laundry*

[merlyn-bane]

when you finished your water overnight and mother's first act upon waking up was Not to refill your bowl 😤😤

[triscribe]

RULES: put 5 songs you actually listen to, then tag 10 people.

Tagged by @icarussmicarus over a month ago bUT here we are:

Getting Stronger by Baasik and Michelle Creber

Numb Little Bug by Em Beihold

Mr. Blue Sky by Weezer

Yes I'm A Mess by AJR

Babylon by Barns Courtney

*cracks knuckles* Now for the hard part - yoinking a bunch of folks from my notifications:

@tyridot @kaiseaya @ozzystar2 @ragingcitrustree @otherpeoplescreativity @allalrightagain @graveexcitement @resamille @babs2191 aaaand @ratshag

[faradaykay]

just so you guys know i DO have a short little fic almost finished that i have decided to post and i just need some time to edit but i WILL post this fic so you can COUNT on the fact that my 10-month-old ao3 will no longer be totally empty soon. ok this is a promise

[akirakirxaa]

When Persephone next visited Emet-Selch, none the worse for wear but with a healthy wariness of proceeding into strangely dark floors of the mines, she knew something was wrong.

"Game? I'm not playing any games," Persephone frowned in confusion. "I just find myself very fond of you and was hoping you felt the same."

She flinched back, averting her eyes. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe this was all a mistake.

This isn't about him not feeling the same, Persephone realized, squaring her shoulders and meeting his gaze as she listened to his tale. This is about him being afraid to feel again.

She bristled angrily, letting fury take the reins from her hurt for the moment. Rage was easier to work with than hurt.

"I don't want to do that," her voice was all quiet anger. "And I don't think you do either."

"Probably, yeah," she mumbled, turning on her heel and storming out.

She was back at her farm before she let the first tears fall.

[arctic-hands]

[Image Description: photograph of an orange cat with a white chin and a white cat with an orange ear, standing next to each other and pressing the tops of their heads together in an affectionate manner, with their eyes closed. End I.D.]

Reblog to bonk your mutuals on the head every time they start thinking negatively about themselves

[audiovisualrecall]

Edison was home alone all day today and I came home to find he popped on the stairs landing, even tho his litterboxes were both just cleaned last night, fresh litter added and everything. Idk if it's like. He was lonely/bored and thought I would appear eventually if he did so and pay attention to him, but like I had no choice today, or the rest of the week though i won't be leaving the house quite as early as i did today.

[incognit0slut]

Doctor Reid

PART 2 OF KINKTOBER | MAIN MASTERLIST

Established Relationship Your boyfriend finally agrees to indulge in your fantasy by playing a very different kind of doctor, but on his own terms.

Content: (18+) 4k, roleplay, lingerie, finger sucking, nipple play, fingering, female oral, edging, soft!dom as per usual and him being what you guys like to call ‘a little shit’ a/n: season 12 Spencer can stay between my thighs all day every day. also, i have no knowledge on any medical terms this is just ✨vibes✨

10:34 AM

The box was heavier than you’d expected. It had been weeks since you’d ordered it—weeks of wondering if this would even get here without some awkward explanation. You’d agonized over every little detail, scrolling through pages of different costumes, wondering which stethoscope looked the most real.

And now it was finally here.

You didn’t waste a second. Your fingers worked quickly, ripping through the tape and cardboard until the contents spilled out. A crisp, folded white coat with perfectly pressed lapels and a stethoscope. And it was a real one, with cool metal tubing that felt heavy and authentic in your hand. Everything looked even better than you’d imagined.

You barely took the time to fold back the box flaps before hurrying to the next room, where your boyfriend sat comfortably on the couch, idly thumbing through a book.

“Spencer!” Your voice practically sang in excitement. “It’s here!”

He glanced up and lowered his book. "What's here?"

You grinned, bouncing on your toes as you closed the distance between you. "The doctor is officially in," you declared, holding up the white coat like a trophy, the stethoscope dangling from your other hand.

You watched as realization dawned across his face as he blinked a few times, processing the items in your hands, before letting out a soft, amused huff.

"Wow," he said slowly. "You really went all out."

"Of course I did,” you affirmed, grinning from ear to ear as you held the coat up to his chest, sizing him up as though he were already playing the part. “And it’s perfect.”

He leaned back into the couch, trying to put some distance between him and your infectious enthusiasm. “You know I’m not much of an actor.”

“Baby,” you drawled out, emphasizing the pet name with that affectionate tone you knew worked like a charm on him. It was the same sweet voice you used when you wanted something, the kind that could coax just about anything from him. “You’re not trying to win the Oscars, it’s sex. I promise you’ll like it.”

He shook his head like he was the most put-upon boyfriend in the world, letting out a mock sigh of exasperation, though the faint smile playing at the corners of his lips betrayed him. He closed his book and set it aside.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said at last, dragging the word out as though it physically pained him to say it. “If we do this on my own terms.”

“Your own terms? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see. And,” he reached out, pinching the collar of the coat between his fingers. “I’m not wearing that.”

You pouted. “What, you don’t want to look like a real doctor?”

“I think I can pull it off without the costume.” He flashed you a smile. “I’m technically still a doctor.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you teased, rolling your eyes. “Your multiple doctorates don’t exactly qualify you for this, Doctor Reid.”

“I thought having six degrees would be enough for anything.”

“Too bad none of them is needed now,” you shot back, poking a finger at his chest playfully. “The role I’m thinking of requires a different kind of expertise. More…” You paused, pretending to mull it over, “Hands-on. Less theoretical.”

The laugh he let out was short and incredulous, his eyebrows raising as if he couldn’t believe your persistence. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

You sighed dramatically. “Babyyyy.”

“You know, one of these days that tone isn’t going to work on me.”

“Oh, please, you love it,” you taunted, leaning in closer. “And don’t act like you’re not curious about this.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and you could practically see the wheels turning in his head, weighing the pros and cons, debating just how far he’d let you push him. And then there it was, that spark in his eyes. Faint but undeniable—the one that told you he was already half convinced, even if he pretended otherwise.

“Alright, fine,” he finally conceded. “I’ll play along.”

The grin you wore was at least a mile wide as you shoved the stethoscope into his hand.

1:52 PM

“Okay. I’m ready.”

Spencer looked up from his stack of papers, and as soon as he saw you standing there, dressed in nothing but lacy lingerie that clung to every curve, his mouth fell open. He blinked, trying to process the sight. Because yes, while you looked incredibly sexy, he was still baffled.

“Since when does a patient wear... that?"

You stepped closer, letting his eyes follow your every move as you shrugged with a hint of feigned innocence in your smile. "Well, I thought I'd save you some time, you know? Make it easier for your examination."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, tapping a finger against his desk. "I'm not so sure this is standard procedure. I think you might be bending the rules here."

"Maybe. But I'm sure Doctor Reid can make a special exception, right?“

You shifted slightly, arching your back just enough to draw his attention. His eyes dropped to your chest, and for a moment, his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the way your nipples strained against the sheer, barely-there fabric of your lingerie. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile, but it broke through anyway. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face.

“Of course,” he finally replied. “I think I can be persuaded.”

With that, he leaned forward, sweeping his documents to the side in one smooth motion, before patting the now-cleared space on the desk in front of him.

“Take a seat, Miss,” he said, his voice turning low and authoritative that lit a spark of excitement inside you. “Let’s get started.”

You bit your bottom lip, fighting back a grin as the cool wood of the desk pressed against the backs of your thighs. You watched Spencer stand up and slip between your legs, his hands finding your knees and spreading them just enough to close the distance until the heat of his body was flushed against yours.

“So, tell me,” he started, his voice lowering as he fell into the role. “What seems to be the problem today?”

A flutter of nerves danced in your stomach, and suddenly you were very aware of what was happening. You’d initiated this—had begged for it, even—but it was something entirely different now that Spencer was towering over you. The confidence you’d felt earlier wavered for just a moment as his palms ran slowly up your thighs.

“I, uh,” your voice faltering slightly as his hands continued their slow journey. “I… I haven’t been feeling well.”

His fingers brushed lightly against the frills of your lingerie, teasing the lace between his fingers as he maintained eye contact. “Any symptoms I should know about? Dizziness? Shortness of breath?”

You nodded, heart pounding in your chest as his thumb traced small circles over the fabric. “All of the above.”

“I see.” His eyes flickered down to your lips. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

Slowly, you parted your lips, and the moment you did, Spencer’s hand came up to your chin. He tilted your head back gently, exposing the graceful line of your throat.

“I’m going to run a few tests now.” He paused, his thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. “It might feel intense, but I need you to stay relaxed and follow my instructions. Can you do that, Miss?”

You nodded as best as you could, mouth still open, and he gave you a small, approving smile.

“Stick your tongue out for me, just a little bit.”

You followed his instructions, extending your tongue just far enough to meet his touch. His eyes gleamed with focus as he brought his thumb to your mouth, pressing it lightly against your tongue.

“Hm,” he hummed, his eyes still fixed on your mouth like he was about to make a serious diagnosis. “I think I might be starting to see the problem here. But I need to check one more thing. Can you close your mouth around my finger?”

You complied, your lips wrapping around his thumb, feeling the rough pad of it pressing down on your tongue.

“Good,” he sighed, the approval in his voice like a reward in itself. “Now try giving it a gentle suck.”

You could feel the tension rising in you. Your cheeks hollowed as you did what he asked, and you couldn’t help but think back to the hesitation in his voice earlier, the way he’d claimed he wasn’t sure about this, that he wasn’t good at playing roles. You would’ve laughed if your mouth wasn’t occupied.

But you were an obedient patient, after all. You started sucking lightly, feeling the weight of his thumb resting against your tongue. There was something undeniably arousing about how he watched you, eyes heavy with focus, and that steady weight of his finger as he pretended to assess your reaction.

The first rush of arousal made itself known between your legs. You gradually increased the pressure, and before you knew it, you were bobbing your head. But just as you fell into a steady rhythm, his hand tightened on your chin to stop you.

“Just as I suspected,” he murmured after a moment, pulling his thumb away slightly to speak. “You’re suffering from an acute sensitivity.”

You swallowed, eyes wide as you played along, trying to keep your composure despite the heat pooling low in your stomach. “Is… is that serious?”

“I’ll need to do a further examination to understand the extent of your condition,” he mused, his eyes flickering between your face and your body as if assessing you before he straightened up slightly. “Let’s check your vitals now.”

He reached behind you, fingers brushing your lower back as he grabbed the stethoscope that had been sitting on the desk all day, the one you’d practically begged him to use. His expression turned serious, as though he were truly diagnosing you, and he leaned in close, pressing the flat side of the stethoscope against the pulse point on your neck.

“Deep breaths,” he instructed softly. You inhaled sharply, feeling the tension coil tighter in your chest as the cool metal made contact with your skin. “Your heart rate is definitely elevated.”

He moved the stethoscope lower, brushing it along your collarbone, before pressing it just above your heart. You felt the thump, thump, thump of your pulse echo through the metal.

“Definitely fast,” he noted. “We might need to find out what’s causing such a reaction.”

And before you could respond, without warning, he moved the stethoscope lower, pressing the cold metal against your nipple. You let out a soft, involuntary moan as the sensation caught you off guard.

“Ah,” he muttered, tilting his head as if he were genuinely analyzing your response, his thumb grazing the lace-covered peak around the stethoscope. “I think we’ve found one of the pressure points.”

You watched as his fingers trailed up to the edge of your lingerie, dragging his knuckles along the lace before he tugged the fabric down, letting your breast spill free. Without a word, he pressed the stethoscope directly against your bare nipple. The sudden contact made you jolt, your back arching as a quiet whimper slipped from your lips, and your nipple hardened instantly under the cold metal.

“Heightened sensitivity to stimuli.” He moved the stethoscope in small circles. “Very, very responsive.”

His eyes flickered down as he used his free hand to tug down the other side of your lingerie, exposing your other breast. You tried to keep your cool, tried to pretend like his touch wasn’t turning you inside out, but it was getting harder by the second. And God, he knew it. The way he played with your other nipple, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger like he had all the time in the world, was enough to make your thoughts scatter.

You tried so hard to keep your composure, but then he gently pinched and tugged on your sensitive nub, and a soft, breathy whine escaped your lips before you could stop it. With a satisfied grin, he pulled away.

You blinked, momentarily dazed. “What—?” you breathed out. “Why did you stop?”

“Medical procedure,” he said simply, his tone so casual it almost made you forget the heat of his touch moments earlier. “It’s important to give the patient time to stabilize.”

You shot him a bewildered, almost exasperated look that said are you serious right now? But he just smiled that slow, self-assured smile of his. He was clearly enjoying this far too much.

“We’re doing this my way, remember?”

You huffed in mock annoyance. “Really? That’s how we’re playing this?”

He brushed his lips on your shoulder. “That’s how we’re playing."

5:22 PM

“Doctor Reid?”

Spencer glanced up from where he was pouring himself a cup of coffee. He raised an eyebrow, casually stirring a hefty amount of sugar, the spoon clinking softly against the mug. “Hmm?”

The coolness of the counter pressed against your back as you watched him. “I think it’s getting worse.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just let his gaze rake over you, taking note of the way the thin fabric of your lingerie clung to your skin.

“Worse, how?” he finally asked, setting his mug down.

“It’s… spreading.”

“Spreading?” He mused. “Where, exactly?”

“Everywhere.” Your fingers nervously toyed with the hem of your lingerie, lifting it just enough to show a glimpse of bare skin beneath. “I really need your help, Doctor.”

His eyes immediately zeroed in on the sliver of skin you revealed. You watched as the realization flashed across his face. The corner of his mouth twitched as though he was fighting back a satisfied smirk, and you knew then that he’d taken the bait—he had to confirm just how bare you really were.

“Come here,” he ordered softly. He stepped back from the counter just enough to make space. “If it’s spreading, I have to conduct a full-body assessment.”

You slowly made your way to him with shaky legs.

“Up,” he instructed, giving the counter a gentle pat before letting his hands settle on your hips. “Sit.”

The cool marble touched the backs of your thighs as you hoisted yourself up. Then, without warning, Spencer’s hands were on your legs. He grabbed your calves, and before you could even catch your breath, he maneuvered your knees apart, placing the palms of your feet flat onto the countertop.

His eyes dropped between your legs, and the sight of you completely bare, your pussy lips glistening under the dim light, confirmed what he’d suspected. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he took in every detail, the way you were flushed, open, and dripping.

“Is there a reason,” he began slowly, his voice dropping to that dangerously soft, detached tone. “Why you’re not wearing anything underneath?”

“I… I thought it might make the examination easier.”

He smiled. “How considerate.”

Then with painstaking slowness, Spencer used both thumbs to part your folds, spreading you open completely to his gaze. It was almost clinical, the way he did it, as if he were studying you like some fascinating experiment. And it was working. You could feel the heat of embarrassment rushing in your veins. God, he had you spread open like this in your kitchen counter, and all you could think was how absolutely shameless this was.

He took his time, of course. Because why wouldn’t he? Spencer Reid didn’t rush experiments. No, he would spend all the time in the world analyzing, learning, committing every detail to memory. And right now, that focus was on you. He dragged his fingertips through your arousal, spreading it leisurely over your folds like he was testing its consistency, as if that slick heat was something he could measure and quantify.

And all you could do was hold your breath.

“I have to say,” he started again, his voice low and taunting as his fingers slid back and forth slowly, grazing just over your entrance without actually dipping inside. “You’re overly lubricated. Are you always like this?”

You exhaled a long breath, trying to steady the rapid rhythm of your heart. “Y-Yes.”

Spencer's smile deepened, his gaze never leaving your face as he pressed just a bit harder, testing your reaction. “Interesting. Do you get this wet from just a little touch, or does it have to be… more?”

“J-Just a little,” you admitted, hips instinctively shifting toward his fingers.

“Mmm,” he hummed approvingly, and finally—finally—he let his finger slide just inside your entrance, only to stop right there, buried to the first knuckle. He didn’t move any further. “Is that all it takes? Or do you need more to truly feel the effects?”

“I...” You let out a whimper when his finger twitched inside you. "M-More."

“And how much more, exactly? One finger? Two?”

“Two,” you gasped, every coherent thought slipping away under his touch. “Two… Doctor.”

A satisfied smile tugged at his lips, and without another word, he obliged, slipping a second finger inside you. The stretch made you bite back a moan as you felt every inch of him dragging against your inner walls. You couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers, pulling him deeper as your slick arousal coated every thrust.

“You’re even more responsive than I thought,” he noted, adjusting his angle to brush against that sensitive spot inside you. “Your partner must enjoy this… a lot.”

He was playing his role all too well. Your fingers gripped the edge of the counter as his speed picked up. "He... He does," you breathed out. "He—he loves it."

Spencer hummed thoughtfully. "Good," he said softly, almost as if to himself. "Because this is a very special condition that requires a great deal of attention. And I'm sure that you need all the attention you can get, don't you?"

“Yes,” you sighed, nodding frantically as the pleasure built in steady waves. “I… I need it.”

"I thought so. Patients with your symptoms typically respond very well to intensive treatment."

With that, his fingers began to thrust deeper, faster, harder. The sensation of his long fingers stretching you had you moaning as you felt every drag, every inch while he continued to work you open. And just when you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, he pressed a thumb firmly against your clit.

“Oh, fuck.”

He circled your swollen nub in slow, delicious patterns, and your body clenched around his fingers. This was it. You could feel it. The way your pulse pounded in your ears, the heat pooling deep in your core, every sensation building higher and higher. You could feel that sweet, sweet edge approaching, so close you could practically taste it—

And then he stopped.

Everything. Stopped.

“Spencer!”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t rush to soothe the ache in your body. He simply slid his fingers out of you, leaving you clenching around nothing.

“Open your mouth.”

You parted your lips, and he slipped his fingers inside, letting you taste yourself. The mix of your own slick and the heat of his skin made you moan softly, your tongue swirling around his fingers

“You see, you can be very responsive,” he commented in a low, measured tone. “But I think we should take a break, rushing the treatment would only compromise the results.”

He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world, like he wasn’t purposefully doing this to drive you insane. You wanted to laugh, and you did. But it was a defeated, breathless sort of laugh around his fingers, because you knew the man settled between your thighs still held all the power over you.

08:56 PM

“Babe?”

He laughed softly, not even glancing up from the book he was reading. “No more Doctor?”

You ignored the amusement in his voice as you walked up to the bed where he lay sprawled out, so casually composed, flipping another page like he hadn’t spent the entire day driving you mad. You reached the edge of the mattress, shadow casting over him, and his eyes finally flicked up to meet yours.

“I wanna cum.”

Spencer’s smile widened, the kind that made your stomach flip with both excitement and irritation, and he placed the book down beside him. His hand reached out lazily to brush your thigh.

“Yeah?” he drawled, tilting his head to the side. “Does my sweet girl want to be taken care of?”

You nodded eagerly. “Please.”

“Well, I do like it when you ask nicely,” he muttered, one hand sliding up to grip your waist. “And you’ve been very patient all day.”

“I have.”

“I think you deserve it.”

“I do.”

He let out an amused laugh. “Alright, lay down on the bed.”

You didn’t hesitate. You quickly shifted, lying back against the pillows. Spencer’s hands were on you immediately, gripping your thighs and dragging you toward the edge of the mattress. The room spun for a moment when he settled onto his knees. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, his fingers squeezing your calf as he pressed a soft, teasing kiss against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Comfortable?”

You nodded, and just as the breath left your lungs, his fingers brushed against the slick, wet folds of your pussy. He traced the outline of your lips gently, gathering the moisture that had been building all day.

“Poor baby,” he cooed sympathetically, his breath ghosting over your wetness. And just when you thought you couldn’t take another moment of teasing, he pressed his tongue flat against you and licked a long strip from your entrance to your clit.

A desperate whine escaped your lips. “Please…”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat. He licked another long, languid strip to your clit, swirling his tongue around it before flattening it again, dragging slowly just to savor the way you trembled beneath him. One of his hands gripped your thigh firmly, keeping your leg steady over his shoulder, while the other slid underneath, lifting your hips closer to his mouth.

And when he finally wrapped his lips around your clit again, pulling it into his mouth with a gentle suck, a choked moan tore from your throat.

“Spencer,” you whimpered. “Oh god…”

The vibration of his low groan reverberated through you. His fingers gripped your thighs tightly, holding you open and pinned beneath him. You weren’t sure what was more overwhelming. The sensation of his tongue flicking rapidly over your clit or the wet, obscene sounds of him slurping against your soaked folds. Either way, it was driving you wild, pushing you closer and closer to that edge where everything blurred and all you could do was feel.

And then his tongue shifted, dipping lower to probe your entrance. He pushed inside, exploring, seeking, like he was determined to reach every possible inch of you. And damn it, it felt like he could. Each thrust and twist of his tongue sent a surge of delicious heat through your body, and you couldn’t help the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders, squeezing him tighter.

You could barely breathe as the tension coiled tighter, so fucking tight you thought you might snap. And he knew it—he could feel it, the way your walls clenched around his tongue, the way your thighs trembled against his shoulders. And still, he didn’t let up, thrusting his tongue into you deeper, faster, while his nose rubbed insistently against your clit.

He kept going, over and over, tasting you like you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. It was too much and yet not enough, and soon you couldn’t stop the desperate chant of his name spilling from your lips. You weren’t even sure what you were pleading for anymore—more? mercy?—all you knew was that you on the brink of falling apart.

One last stroke was enough to shatter you completely.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you came, but with the way he was working you over, you didn’t stand a chance. The moment you felt yourself tip over, everything broke—your body tensed, your back arched sharply off the bed, and a loud moan tore from your lips. It was like your body had a mind of its own, hips grinding desperately against his mouth as if seeking every last bit of friction you could steal.

And when you finally came down, you were a breathless, panting mess. Spencer gave your clit one final, teasing suck, before he pulled back. He crawled up your body, hands sliding up your sides to push your lingerie higher. Gentle, warm kisses tickled your stomach as he threw you a smug look that only he could pull off.

“How was that,” he murmured, pausing to kiss just beneath your ribs. “For your little fantasy?”

Mind-blowing. Intense. Better than I imagined.

“Well,” you managed to say, fingers tangling into his hair. “If that’s how you plan on treating me, Doctor, I might just have to get sick more often.”

Spencer’s lips curved into a knowing smirk against your skin, and he nipped gently at your side.

“I think it’s best for you to do a regular check-up, then,” he teased, letting his lips ghost over your skin as he crawled further up, settling his body over yours. “Doctor’s orders.”

You couldn’t stop the soft, breathless laugh that escaped your lips as you pulled him in for a kiss, tasting yourself on his mouth.

You’d be more than happy to comply.

[dubiouslydragon]

"The appeal of slimegirls is their ability to use their fluid bodies for sex" is such a short-sighted take. Sure, that's a factor, but much more importantly is the ability to Be Silly. Your Simegirl partner can and will stretch themself through a cardboard tube, let you carry them around in a bucket, go Blob Mode, make themself taller than you, go Puddle Mode, and turn into a mobius strip for fun. By limiting your Slimegirl Partner to Big Boobie Sexy Hourglass Form you are depriving both them and yourself of crucial enrichment. Let them play in the blender and stick themselves to the ceiling! You'll both have so much fun!

All that aside though, we all know the REAL best way for Slimegirls to take advantage of their ability to squeeze through small gaps and holes ;)... acts of Grand Larceny :D

[halfghostwriter]

Danny had been planning this vacation for months, and Ancients did he plan to make the most of it. His friends and parents all agreed to keep Amity safe while he’s gone for the summer, and he had Clockwork to tell him when it was time to portal back home. As he floated towards a natural portal in the ghost zone (because it’s far more fun when the destination is a surprise), he began shifting his form. He had been dealing with so much both as a human and as a ghost. School, fights, teen drama, hunters— but not this summer! This summer, it’s going to be different! He won’t have to worry about human or ghost problems, because this summer, he’s not going to be either! He’s going to be…

A Little Creature™️.

He doesn’t use his “compact” form very often, since it dampens his powers and takes away his ability to talk. But, on this vacation, he won’t need his powers. He can just wander around an unknown dimension, steal some food, sleep in a cardboard box. If he actually needs to be human for something, he can switch back no problem. But honestly? It’s fun being a little guy, even if being a little guy does make him kinda stupid. (He got stuck in a cardboard tube the first time he went into his little form. He was stuck for half an hour. Didn’t even think to phase out of it. As soon as he was pulled out of the tube, he went right back in and got stuck again). Plus, he can stay in this form for an incredibly long time— he doesn’t even switch back when he’s hurt! (Which no, it was not fun to learn that, but good to know)

Shifting into his compact form, Danny slips through the portal and finds himself wading through a big pool of stuff that seems like ectoplasm, but slightly to the left. Like yeah, it’s technically ectoplasm, the same way a carton of milk set out in the sun for three days is technically milk. Not fun to play in, horrible to eat.

As Danny pulls himself out of the gross, bubbling “ectoplasm” pool, shaking himself off, he sees some sort of big fight going down. Bunch of people with swords, some big guy dressed as a bat, some kid dressed as a traffic light. He considers stepping in for a moment, but… no. This is his vacation. Not his dimension, not his problem. Just be a Little Creature™️. He sees a bat-shaped piece of metal at his feet. He knows exactly what a Little Creature™️ would do in this scenario.

He hits it.

Then he hits it again.

Then he hits it again, and again, and again and again and again and he grabs it and bites it and rolls around with it and tail slaps it and bites it and bites it and bites it and bites it and then he almost gets stepped on.

Danny looks up from his toy to see the kid dressed as a traffic light staring down at him. The kid tries to grab the toy away from Danny only to be met by the fierce batting of his little paws. The kid moves his hand close a couple more times, and each time he’s fought off valiantly by Danny’s little paw smacks. He’s not sure why the kid looks like he’s smiling when he’s so clearly losing this battle. The kid gets distracted by the guy in the bat costume calling out to him, and Danny takes this opportunity to continue biting the bat toy, rolling with it and biting it and batting it and biting it and why is he being carried away by the kid.

Danny looks around and sees that the kid is carrying him into a big plane being piloted by the guy in the bat suit. Then he’s shoved under the kid’s cape, and he doesn’t really see too much for a few minutes. He chirps at the kid, and is met with a soft yet quick “shhh!” He waits until he can feel the plane they’re in take off to peek out of the cape and look out the window.

He can see the large pool— though it’s more of a pit, now that he sees the whole thing— that he arrived through, as well as a bunch of people running away from it. Not sure why though, it’s just a bubbling—

Ah.

It blew up.

… Danny hides a bit further in the cape, clutching his bat toy a little tighter. He wound up in a very comfortable position, which made him just… a little sleepy…

Danny woke up wrapped in the cape, held by the kid, surrounded by a shocking number of people all yelling something about a “tiny pet pit demon.”

[dailyghostbusterheadcanons]

Trevor’s favorite strategy to play chess is something he calls “Cain’s Gambit” which consists of hitting Phoebe with a cardboard tube to distract her.

gb headcanon day #154

[cryptidcorners]

Hello again! I have yet another request to ask of my favorite Mike writer, if you are in want of something to make. How about Abby’s babysitter girl and her are playing/reenacting Abby’s favorite fairy tale, then Mike steps in just in time and Abby demands he come over to play Prince Charming. Humiliating Mike, amusing the babysitter, and then also stirring up romantic feelings all the while. Thanks so much!

Crown - Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

Description: Mike is dragged into another one of Abby's plays, being forced to play Prince Charming with you as some warrior princess as the pairing. As Abby's creative tale unfolds, she's completely oblivious to your romantic tension with her older brother.

# requested by @/scribblesandsherlock

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt (+ Abby)

Tags: Babysitter!Reader, Flusteted Mike, Domestic, Fluff, Playing With Abby, Fantasy Themed, Romantic Tension, Slice of Life, Friends to ? ? ?, Some Flirting, Cute Stuff, Feminine Terms used !

No Warnings.

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

"And then—" Abby was holding a cardboard tube colored messily over your head, blessing you with the imaginary title of "Warrior queen of the Rabbit Kingdom." which held a decent ring to it. Trying hard to desperately not break out of character, you giggled and replied as seriously as you could: "Thank you for bestowing this honor on me, Queen Schmidt."

Abby giggled and cleared her throat, shaking in excitement. "Now, I give you the honor of my son. Prince—uhm, Schmidt." She shrugged at you with a smile, then shifted back into her Queen Schmidt personality. "So you can get married and live happily ever after," her eyes wandered around for a toy suitable to fit the role. You gazed around too, "Oh, no. Is your son, perhaps, missing?"

"I hope not." Abby said, "You'll see him." she scavenged around and you sat comfortably. Until you saw Mike walk into the room, fixing the color of his sweater, unknowing of the world he was about to accidentally walk into, "Hey Abs, have you seen my—" Mike halted. "What is happening?"

"Hey, you can be the prince." Abby said, "I think my crown can fix you."

Mike raised his hands defensively, "Oh, no. I'm not good at playing royalty." he shook his head. "Besides, I need to go shopping."

"When will you be back?" You asked in your normal tone of voice.

"Three," he said. "Three-ish?"

"Ah,"

"Mike, please." Abby begs, tugging her sluggish older brother by his sleeve as he stumbles hunched toward to level with her. Mike huffs, "Do I really need to be a prince? Why not a knight, or something cool?" he humors lightly. His eyes wash up at you, and he can't resist giggling at your costume made from scratch. It was impressive what Abby could make with her scrapes of material and tape. "No, she's the the knight." Abby pointed. Amused, you respond, "and a princess."

"And a princess." Abby adds, "And a witch!"

"Oh. So, I don't get any powers?" Mike says dryly, though there's a scrape of playfulness wrapped behind his blunt demeanour. He sat up and shut his eyes promptly for Abby to delicately place a cardboard mock crown on Mike's head. Abby smiled, before replying honestly, "That's because you're lame. Maybe next time you can be a princess, witch and knight."

"Goodie." Mike was obviously trying to drag a laugh out of you with his dramatic tone. You could see his eyes twinkled when it worked. There was a circle of stuffed animals and dolls, all clad in an organic costume made from Abby's workshop of a room.

"Okay, now we have a prince." She discarded the toy in her hand. "Now, you two can get married. And rule The Rabbit Kingdom."

"Married?" Mike knew it was pretend but his face flushed. "I didn't know that,"

"I am a princess, and you're the prince." You explained, almost toying with him. Mike chuckled, covering his face in light embarrassment.

"Yeah, Mike. Catch up." She cleared her throat. Mike was enjoying it much more than he thought he would. Maybe it was the idea of marrying you that sounded appealing, but that was ridiculous. He didn't love you. Did he?

Abby grabbed a floppy cat with buttoned eyes and calico patterns, making a deep voice. "I am the priest, and I say, that—we are gathered here today to see a prince and a princess get married. And, well . . ." She trailed off. "I don't know what a priest says, so. You're married!" She dropped the toy and tube together. Raising her hands out dramatically with a fun smile. "You can kiss now. Like couples do," she snickered.

You and Mike got close, giggling and awkwardly talking over each other as you tried to find a loophole. Mike swore his face was as hot as a furnace, and your stomach was twisted with butterflies caught in a trap. Abby broke the strange mental tango between you two, "You can hug if you want."

"Oh, right." You gazed at Abby, then back at Mike.

"Yeah, we can do that." He said. And so you did. Falling into a tight embrace for a couple seconds. Mike wanted to be longer, but he had errands. Plus, he doubt you'd stay long enough. Abby giggled, "You guys are husband and wife, now! Awesome." she looked around, eyes plotting something. She ran towards her room,"One second, I need to get something! Don't leave, Mike."

Yet, as soon as she disappeared. Mike stood up with a grunt, sighing. With a gentle smile, you gazed up at him. "Going so soon? We just got married."

"Very funny." Mike's cheeks flared as he removed the crown delicately and ran his fingers through his curls. He sighed and grabbed his wallet that was sitting longingly on the tabletop. "Tell her I got kidnapped by some monster or something, I'll think of a way to sneak in."

"Well, you got the right girl." You walked up to him, grabbing the door. "I am a warrior too."

"You're very in character." Mike hummed. "Is this going to be referenced often? Is it gonna be a thing?"

"Maybe, maybe not." You chuckled.

Once Mike had left his house. He felt an intense whirlwind of emotions. Romantic emotions. Loving feelings and sick stomach aches. Mike knew he wasn't a real prince, nor were you the ruler of some Bunny Palace but part of him was thinking of a life like that. Not with royalty or talking animals, but just you two. Married. The thought wasn't too strong, yet. But it kept him smiling when he was shopping. All the way through.

[jovial-thunder]

More IRL Lego Lancer!

We played the Tomb of Delios one-shot by Katherine Stark. Some NPC comp / sitrep spoilers ahead.

I used the backs of old trivial pursuit boards for grids, egg cartons, poster tubes, and a big Roomba box + insert for terrain.

I coated the cardboard with this flour and glue paste recipe I found on youtube.

I found a bunch of cheap-ish large lego octogons and walls online for the modular buildings, then greebled them with misc urban details I collected from my local bricks & minifigs bulk by-volume bins.

Our PCs were a Swallowtail artillery (callsign Bandit; an SSC plant in the union auxilliaries), Störtebeker striker (callsign Roadkill, silver-nanite kintsugi'd mechromancer), and Black Witch support (callsign Egret, disgraced princess (gotta be one of my favorite genders)).

The elite cataphract ended up playing trapdoor spider for most of the game; hiding in a magical healing forest (thank u support o7) and grappling PCs back into the forest with it.

Its scariest turn was popping out, structuring the Bandit and destroying his siege stabilizers, and lassoing it back into the forest. Egret came to the rescue and finally did the cataphract in with perimeter command plate/impact lance/crit thrown tactical knife overwatch combo.

The Swallowtail never took any voluntary movement after deploying its siege stab round 1, but between rainmaker knockback, the aforementioned trapdoor spider incident, and allied ferrous lashes, and a few rams, it was pingponged around the map pretty significantly.

"Come out Rainmaker, I just want to talk."

The final threat to the objective was when a bastion clambered up onto the pipeline to contest them. The Störtebeker (whose mini was having trouble standing up on the pipeline) pulled an indiana jones and just shot it down.

For the pre-battle narrative section, I made two 4-step clocks out of lego and a minimap as the party visited various districts of the city. Both were totally unnecessary but I think added a lot to the IRL experience.

All in all, it was a lot of fun! Things that worked well/could be improved on:

The aforementioned mini stability. I should add more baseplates to the minis to making moving and standing them up less finicky.

As cool as the egg carton bottoms are, having flat surfaces is just better. Going to stick with the tops going forward.

The grid ground floor worked great. I should trace more grids onto the egg cartons and larger boxes. I also made a few measuring sticks out of dowels and that was super handy.

Witchdice on phones continues to work well for PC character sheets.

I made a handful of status tokens that we could put next to mechs. They were handy for consumable statuses like lock-on, but less so for memorable ones like exposed and hidden.

We needed more little indicators for misc systems like Javelin Rockets and Iceout Drone.

It was fun to be able to follow up "how do you want to do this" with "you may now destroy the mini".

[narrans]

My Borrowed Son | 10 | Unwrapped Questions

Chapter Ten | Unwrapped Questions

“Happy birthday Parker! Smile!” Amanda held up her phone and snapped several pictures over and over, not wanting to miss a single moment. The click of the digital shudder seemed to flick the memories from the past six years before Amanda’s eyes. She replayed them in her mind.

She could remember all of it as if it were yesterday.

Finding Parker under the bench abandoned and alone.

His first words.

His trust building as he grew and began to question the world around him.

It seemed like yesterday that she celebrated his first birthday with her where he turned a whopping five years old; at least, that’s where she thought he was age wise. Now he was officially ten years old.

Double digits.

It took everything in her not to break out in a sob as she reminisced. The years had certainly aged him. The minuscule boy no bigger than her thumb was growing up. There was a sense of pride that she had managed to keep him alive and safe all of this time, but also a sense of wonder and fear.

Parker wasn’t two inches tall anymore. He was getting closer to three and a quarter inches, and he would only keep growing from there. He was developing a sense of style and taste in the things he liked. The clothes he wore, which he was beginning to make himself, were more free flowing and flexible while tight in others.

His mind constantly wanted more knowledge. By now, he had read through nearly every book in Amanda’s home and she was renting stacks of books weekly for him from the local library. Parker had also gotten into experimenting recently, which was a huge scare for Amanda.

She had walked by his room one day to find one of the push lights completely disassembled and Parker messing with the wires, connecting them to different elements of the electronic device to figure out how it worked.

That ended up being a discussion about safety which Parker did not enjoy.

The rambunctious boy was also getting into climbing and inventing, which set Amanda completely on edge. Not only was Parker balancing precariously on whatever he could, but he was testing the strength of different items around the house. Once, Amanda found him with a piece of yarn attached to a paper clip which was wrapped around one of the knobs on the bathroom counter.

When she asked him why, he said he didn’t know.

It just felt right.

He had an unexplainable urge to climb and jump and tumble over anything and everything. Try as she might, Amanda couldn’t get him to stop completely. The compromise was that she had an area specifically set up for him to run drills and “play.” It was like a complicated playground with tunnels made from the cardboard tubes from toilet paper or paper towels as well as yarn, toys, and boxes.

Despite his rambunctiousness, Parker also found time for his “quiet” activities, reading and writing in the notebooks Amanda gave him. He was a thoughtful, intuitive child and it really showed in his writing when he dared to share it with his mom.

Now, he was a whole ten years old.

Amanda nearly choked up again as she stared at her son’s face and the little plume of smoke where the candle once stood lit. It was the first candle he had ever been able to blow out by himself.

“Did you get it, mom?” asked Parker as he leaned around his cupcake birthday cake and stood as tall as he could. Amanda had to quickly wipe her eyes with the back of her hand as she nodded.

“Of course I did, sweetie,” she said affectionately. “Now, cake or presents first?”

“Presents please!” Parker cheered as he stepped off of his makeshift stool that he stood on top of to blow out his candle. He darted over to the small, wrapped boxes Amanda had prepared. It was excruciating work, but it was well spent. Parker deserved to have wrapped presents just like any other child after all.

The child bounced on the balls of his feet as he examined the five different packages in front of him. Two of them were about as big as him while the other three were much smaller.

He decided to go with the big ones.

It took him a minute to undo the wrapping as his little fingers fumbled with the paper, but he eventually pulled it back to reveal an MP3 player. It was a very simple model that took AAA batteries, but it held loads of music, which was something Parker frequently enjoyed.

“Oh, thank you momma… but… what is it?” asked Parker. He remembered his manners even when he was confused, which made Amanda chuckle.

“It’s a music player. Now you can play music in your room without asking me. You just flick this right here to turn it on and this is how you switch songs,” Amanda explained as she demonstrated how to use Parker’s new toy.

She knew it was old fashioned technology, but he was still a bit too young in her opinion to have a phone or complete access to the internet. What little access he did have was to watch movies at the end of the night, which was always with Amanda.

“Ohhh! Thank you momma!” Parker said eagerly as he pressed the play button and began listening to the “Happy” song. He moved onto the small packages, which were some more books and new colored pencils, the “world’s smallest video game, and a new board game - chess. It was part of a multipack which Amanda had been rationing out when he achieved something like reading a big book. Now felt like a good time to give him a more complicated game which he could learn over time.

“These are great! Thank you,” smiled Parker as he excitedly went from present to present.

He finally moved onto the last big one, but opening it brought a face of confusion when he found something that looked like a metal rod.

“Momma? What’s this?” Parker asked. He lifted it with a heave and observed the metal ends that clicked together like Legos. Amanda’s smile broadened as her eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Okay, your last big present is… a little bigger than the others. Here,” said Amanda as she got up from the table, making sure she had her camera set to record, as she hurried out of the room and into the back bedroom and emerged with a package that was massive, even for her.

Parker’s eyes widened as he stepped over to the edge of the table and watched as his mom unveiled the final gift. The front of the box read “Snap Circuits,” which already made Parker’s eyes gleam. He enjoyed electronics and figuring out how things worked, and this seemed to be right up his alley.

“Okay, so this right here is an experiment kit. You take pieces, like the one you have over there, and hook them up to a board to understand how electricity and batteries work. If you’re going to be curious, do it safely first,” said Amanda as she slid the box just under Parker. He wasted no time in jumping down into the box to examine all of the parts and pieces.

“Woah! Mom! This is incredible!” Parker said, jaw slackened in awe.

“I thought you’d like it. Now, let’s get it unpacked and get playing with it,” smiled Amanda.

For the next three hours, the two of them clicked and set up different experiments. Amanda did make Parker read most of the instructions out loud, which was frustrating from time to time, but the end result of getting lightbulbs to glow or fans to rocket into the air was absolutely worth it.

It was a great celebration - perfect even.

Still…

There was something deep down that Parker wanted that wasn’t - couldn’t - be wrapped in paper.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Parker, for as long as he could remember, knew he was a little different. He knew he was small for his age, but there was a good reason for it.

Parvi Homunculi Syndrome.

He had it ever since he was a baby. Evidently, it was a rare condition that made him a perfectly sized human, but just significantly smaller than any other human. The condition was so rare that very few people knew about it and, therefore, not a lot of research had been done. Not even the greatest scientists in the world had answers.

There was no cure.

There was no treatment.

Not even online resources had anything significant to say about the condition except that the origin words were from Latin and that it meant “little human.”

It was final.

Parker was always going to be tiny.

He was alright with his size. In fact, he never felt like anything about him was entirely off. The child felt completely normal, but he was told by his mother that his condition kept him fragile, making the outside world a bit more dangerous for him than any other human.

It was like the people who were allergic to sunlight.

Normal, and yet not.

Parker didn’t resent that fact. He enjoyed his time with his mother and loved the time he had to explore, read, and do mostly whatever he wanted.

It was the simple fact that there was no one else like him that made him feel… lonely… from time to time.

The child knew there were kids his age, but he also knew he could never play with them because they wouldn’t know about his condition and not be careful with him. It was a precaution. It was a necessary precaution.

Still…

It didn’t stop him from feeling a bit out of place.

It was a sensation he could never quite get rid of. Everything just felt so big and some of his impulses and thoughts just felt right despite how dangerous they seemed. He remembered an instance with a paper clip and yarn he attached to one another. Parker was tired of asking his mother to lift him to the sink anytime he wanted to play in the sink or if he needed to go to the bathroom. So, he found a solution. He attached a paper clip to some yarn and threw it upward until it caught the knob on the sink drawer.

Was it dangerous to climb it?

Yes. Absolutely.

Did he do it?

Mostly - if his mom hadn’t stopped him.

Parker couldn’t explain how he knew how to climb the rope or why that seemed like the best solution, but he did it anyway.

Another time he was balancing on the edge of the nightstand drawer at the very bottom. His mom told him to be careful, but he still lost his balance and fell toward the ground. Inside of him, something told him how to twist in the air and land safely on his feet - and so he did. His mom fussed and worried over him for a week, but Parker emerged completely unscathed from the incident. He and his mother both were astounded he was alright considering the fall was the equivalent of falling from the roof of a two story building.

There were a million instances just like this, and none of them could be explained.

Nothing stopped Parker from asking questions, but all of them were explained with the condition he had; so, ultimately, he started attributing all of these odd quirks to his genetic condition.

Every once in a while, he felt like he just wanted to be like his mom - normal. But he suspected that others with this condition had the same thoughts and feelings too. Anyone who was deemed a little different probably wanted to feel normal every once in a while, whatever “normal” actually was.

Now that he was ten, Parker felt he had more questions than answers, but not all of them pertained to his instincts. Some of them were about life. There were things he knew, and there were things he didn’t know. And, for the things he didn’t know, sometimes he was afraid to ask. Whether it was natural apprehension for delving into the unknown or because he was afraid to hear the answer, Parker didn’t know.

But, what he did know was that his mom always had a hard time saying “no” to him when it was his birthday.

Now was his one day out of the year where he felt like he could summon the courage to ask some really tough questions.

And this time he was going to do it.

So, after a healthy helping of cake and a movie of his choosing, Parker played with his plate of mostly icing and crumbs as he cleared his throat. His heart was pounding hollowly, but he wouldn’t shy away from his questions today. He had already done so far too many times.

“Um… momma?” asked Parker, gaining his mother’s attention.

“Yes, sweetie?” Amanda asked as she turned off the television and flicked on the nearby lamp.

“Could… um… could I ask you a question? And you not get mad?” Parker asked. Amanda’s body position changed immediately as she faced him, which made his mouth dry.

“Parker, when have I gotten mad when you’ve asked a question? You can always ask me anything and I’ll answer as best as I can. Is something wrong?” His mom’s concern was evident in her signature “mom” tone. It made Parker smile as he heard it. He knew the question came off a bit wrong by asking her not to get mad, but it just sort of slipped out.

“I… I know. I’m okay. You don’t get mad. I just… I just know some questions you… don’t like,” said Parker. His mom’s body stiffened ever so slightly as if she knew the question to come, but she nodded with conviction.

“Parker, you can always ask me anything,” said his mom.

It was enough to get the ball rolling.

“Well… with my… condition… will I get a chance to invite friends over for my birthday?” Parker asked. He knew what the answer would be, but he wanted to ask anyway.

“Parker, I wish I knew the answer to that question. I would love it if you could go out and make some friends like any other kid, but you’re special. Everything here is to help and protect you, sweetie, which I know is hard,” said his mom.

“But, maybe, if we could go to the park together, you can help explain everything and…”

“And kids your age aren’t always as careful as you. They don’t listen as well as you, Parker,” said his mom. Parker drew his legs up to his chest and picked at the lump of icing on his plate.

“Then… could I maybe call friends one day?” he asked. “Like… if you find someone who has a kid who will be careful, and we can play games online or call on the phone and stuff?”

At this suggestion, Amanda perked up.

“Yes, I think I can figure something out. I want you to have friends to play games with. I’ll see what we can do. Yeah? For your birthday, I’ll do this,” suggested Amanda. Parker smiled and nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, yeah! I mean… yes, please,” said Parker. Already, his heart was feeling lighter with the answers he was given.

“Anything else?” asked his mom, her eyes luring out more questions that had been lingering in the corners of the child’s mind.

“Um… I… guess… could… I mean… I love reading, but…” Parker’s next request was a bold one, but it tied into his first desire of meeting other people. He gulped and spat out his desire before he lost his nerve. “I want to go to school.”

His request lingered there for a moment before he saw his mom nodding.

“I know. I’ve seen it for a while now. I know I can only teach you so much, and you probably want to make friends with your classmates too, huh?” asked his mom. Parker nodded sheepishly.

“Yes momma,” he replied.

Amanda sighed, knowing this day would come.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do. I don’t know about this season, but I’m sure I can get some tests done and have you placed in the fall. Okay? Mind you, it will probably have to be virtual, like how I go to work sometimes. You’ll be able to see and talk to others, but going physically to school might be tricky. Okay?”

It didn’t matter that he had to stay at home. He would get to interact virtually, which was a start.

“Well then, birthday boy, any other questions and requests?”

There was one other thing…

It weighed on Parker, and he wasn’t even sure if he could articulate what he needed or wanted. It was more of the curiosity and the unknown that captured his focus.

“Um… there was… one other thing.”

“Okay. I’m all ears,” said his mom.

“I… well… I was just… wondering… about dad.”

The word left the air feeling charged and static. It took a good thirty seconds for his mom to respond.

“What were you wondering about?”

It was a legitimate question, and Parker honestly didn’t know if he would get this far.

“Um… just… I don’t know. I guess… why he missed my birthday? Why he’s not here? I… see in the shows and movies and stuff that there’s a mom and a dad, and he’s not here,” said Parker. His questions were earnest and meant in innocence and sincerity, which made it all the more bitter for Amanda.

She often left her ex-husband out of all conversation and discussion. Parker had absently asked a few times in the past about him, but now there was a deliberate question about his existence and presence - or lack thereof. Amanda had to take a few deep breaths as she formulated the right words.

She had already thought about these words a while ago, and while she knew Parker would ask her one day about the truth of his size and origin, she didn’t want to shatter his reality here and now.

Not on his birthday.

Maybe not ever.

Everything she said was the truth - but the bitter lying by omission burned her tongue and made her squirm.

“My… husband… he would have been your dad… he left when you were just a baby. He and I… we didn’t get along. We had our arguments and decided it would be best to split - divorce,” explained Amanda as carefully as she could. “I know he would have loved you if he got to know you, Parker, but at the time we made decisions that we thought were best for us, even though that might feel wrong now.”

Parker listened to his mother’s explanation intently. She had never given him so much information all at once.

It still left questions.

Did his dad not love him? Did he not want to try and get to know him?

What did he do wrong?

“Is… is it because of me?” asked Parker. He had asked the question before he had a chance to second guess himself.

Immediately, Amanda leaned over and rested her fingers beside him. Parker wasn’t sure why, but a momentary instinct told him to flinch away at the approaching fingers that he knew and loved. He stood his ground, but the impulse was an odd one. As fast as it came, it went, leaving Parker feeling confused. His mom’s voice brought him back to their conversation.

“Parker, you listen to me. It is not because of you. Do not even think that for a second. We made the best decisions we could in the moment. They may feel wrong now, but we didn’t know that at the time,” said Amanda reassuringly. “You are so loved, Parker. Don’t you forget that.”

Parker looked up into his mother’s features and saw there were tears in her eyes. His eyes started to burn seeing the conviction and passion in his mother’s gaze. He wanted nothing more than to take back his last question.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad,” said Parker as he leaned over and hugged his mother’s fingers, practically wrapping his whole body around them.

“No, Parker. You didn’t make me sad. I’m just sorry I can’t give you everything you want and need. I hope you know none of that is because of you,” said Amanda.

“I know. I know. Don’t cry momma,” said Parker over and over again. Ever so carefully, Amanda rotated her hand and scooped up the small child to hold him to her chest. His little fingers grasped at the fibers on her shirt as he turned and faced her. She could hear his little voice apologizing, but she reassured him that there was nothing to apologize for.

In fact, she was surprised things were going as well as this. She always feared these questions when Parker asked. She feared the day if and when he would question who she was to him.

She was his mom.

But not his mother.

She didn’t carry him or birth him, but she was there to nurture and teach him as if she did.

The difference didn’t matter to Amanda because Parker was her son. She would protect him and love him with everything she was. It was sad she didn’t have all of the answers he wanted. He deserved the truth; but how could she tell him what she didn’t know?

All she could do is tell him the truth as best as she could, even as the difficult questions sat poised on the edge ready to strike at any moment. It made her feel anxious and sick, dreading what might not ever come to pass.

Perhaps that day will never come, Amanda prayed as she held Parker closer.

When the two of them had taken a few deep breaths and felt the air clear, Parker asked to go back to playing with his toys. It was still his birthday so, despite it being his bedtime, Amanda allowed him to stay awake and to play with his toys for just a little longer.

It was his birthday after all.

Parker proceeded to build three more constructions from his book before his eyes could no longer be held open. He needed sleep, and his mom knew it. She took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and a quick bath before the two of them went to sleep.

As Parker drifted off in his bed in his room, he stared up at the edge of his mom’s massive bed and called, “I love you, momma.”

“I love you, Parker. I love you so very much.”

Parker curled into his bed and smiled.

What a fun birthday….

~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~

Continue

Previous

Beginning

[nonsensical-shitposting]

Decided to comb through a few separate playthroughs of Indigo Park with the intention of tracking down potential bits of foreshadowing that I haven't seen anyone recognize as such yet. Here's what I've got in no particular order, along with a few accompanying theories:

The player's screenname on the Discord expy seen in the opening cutscene is eEnsign. My first instinct is to say this is just a hint towards their surname, as their presumable first name is Ed and Indigo Park has already established a precedent for alliterative names: so, their full name could be "Ed Ensign." I do think there could be more to it symbolism-wise, though, so I'll just leave you with these definitions I grabbed from Wiktionary and let you come to your own conclusions about the potential implications for Ed's backstory, narrative role, and/or fate:

Could just be me reading too much into it, but Rambley's "or did you just get plastic surgery?" joke may be a hint that Ed will suffer some form of facial damage or alteration in a future chapter.

The power generators don't feel like they were "originally" part of the park, but rather seem to me as if they were a more recent addition- the only question is when and why. Rambley says the employees stopped showing up before the guests, so maybe they were installed during the time before the last employees ditched the park in an attempt to keep it functioning in their absence for as long as possible. Alternatively, maybe Mollie made them after the park was evacuated: she's already been established as good with machines, assuming her plane-building habits carried over from the character to the mascot.

Salem's cardboard cutout is bisected at the waist, which could be a hint that a similar fate has befallen the "real-world" mascot (there's precedent for this sort of foreshadowing with the headless Mollie standee at the park entrance). Similarly, on the cluster of screens Rambley appears on after the Rambley's Railway section the screen over where his right eye "should be" is noticeably deactivated, which could be a hint that his mascot counterpart (if it exists) is missing its right eye. Alternatively, Rambley might suffer a similar kind of damage in a future chapter- in that case, I'd interpret the potential foreshadowing more metaphorically in that the damage'll leave him "half-blind" in a sense, such as something that knocks out most of the park's security cameras or just locks him out of using them.

I think the general consensus by this point is that the Critter Cuff's resuscitation ability Rambley mentions will be unlocked and/or come into play somehow in a future chapter, but I haven't seen anyone dwelling on the implications of this- or, rather, the implications of this coexisting with how we've seen Rambley simply unlock a higher access level on Ed's cuff with zero physical modification to the device and no on-site capability to physically modify the cuffs that we've seen yet. I don't think it's a stretch to suggest that the resuscitation ability is likely pre-installed on all Critter Cuffs but only gets unlocked for the higher access levels, which. Y'know. Doesn't say great things about how Indigo Park treats its human employees or its customers. (I'm not saying this is a plausibility issue, mind you- as far as we know, Indigo Park is located somewhere in America- but still!)

I've watched over the scene where Lloyd attacks Ed multiple times now, and it looks to me like Lloyd specifically goes to grab at his nose/muzzle area when the Critter Cuff starts emitting the high-pitched frequency that drives him off. Building off of this and the fact that Mollie appears to be bleeding from her beak immediately prior to and throughout her chase sequence, my theory is that the park set the mascots up with some kind of multi-component implant located in the nasopharynx and Eustachian tube, and the implants themselves are what triggers the Critter Cuff to start emitting what I'm just going to refer to as "the deterrent frequency" from here onward for simplicity's sake. My best guess would be that the implants and Critter Cuff work in tandem via proximity detectors in both the implants and the cuff, which are in turn linked back to the heartbeat monitor and mood ring features of the Critter Cuff to determine whether a visitor seems to be in danger of being attacked by a mascot and automatically sets off the deterrent frequency if these conditions are all simultaneously present. (Granted, this does seem a bit advanced for the time period if we're working under the assumption that this was all developed before the park closed down in 2015-ish, but Rambley's AI would also be anachronistically advanced for even the present day, let alone 2015, so I don't think it's a stretch to say that Indigo Park was working with some pretty cutting-edge technology before its closure. Either that, or the Indigo Park universe is just more technologically advanced than ours.) If I'm right about the implants/their placement, the deterrent frequency probably drives the mascots off via both the high-pitched noise we already know of that hurts their ears and by screwing with their middle-ear pressure... which I think would induce some form of barotrauma in the long run, especially if it's repeatedly used? I'm not a doctor and I don't know if the game's going to go that deep into scientific explanations, though, so don't take my word for it without researching the topic yourself and/or seeking input from an actual medical professional.

Anyway, working from this assumption about how the deterrent frequency functions, this suddenly explains the apparent weirdness in Mollie's chase sequence. It seems clear that she was watching when Ed's cuff set off the deterrent frequency to drive Lloyd away, which would've tipped Mollie off that the deterrent frequency is still functioning; I think that this led to her deciding to tear out her implant beforehand. This would explain why she's visibly bleeding in the leadup to the chase sequence and why Ed's Critter Cuff never emits the deterrent frequency when she first appears or starts chasing them down, and it also explains the different high-pitched frequency heard at the very end of the chase sequence: based on the above theory, my assumption is that Rambley tried to set off a backup deterrent frequency to get Mollie to leave (which didn't work because Mollie tore out her implant), and when that failed he panicked and slammed the door shut.

I feel like Ed having been employed on the spot by Rambley is going to be of major relevance later. If it ends up being important for the ending, maybe there'll be some kind of weird legal loophole where, due to Ed being the only person working at Indigo Park at the time, ownership thereof automatically defaults to them? If the full game has multiple endings, this would also be an easy way to make choice-based multiple endings work, as if you do something that rubs Rambley the wrong way he could easily send security recordings of Ed breaking into Indigo Park to the authorities to ensure Ed can't exploit the loophole to gain ownership of Indigo Park, while on the flipside having Ed's hard work pay off with them getting rewarded for helping Rambley restore the park (rather than the company just swooping in after the fact to reassert control and reaping the benefit of Ed's work while Ed gets nothing but a fine for trespassing) could be a nice way to close things out... or alternatively, it could be a conduit for an anticapitalist "you cannot fix the system by working within its constraints, the whole rotten edifice must be dismantled" message, especially if Ed turns out to be more of a morally-gray character than we thought.

This is more instinct than anything else, but the references to Indigo Park as a "kingdom" that appear in the trailer and in Rambley's song feel like something that's going to be a recurring thematic motif rather than just a metaphor that gets used in a few throwaway lines. Not quite sure what relevance this could end up having, though.

I don't think I'm the only one to have noticed this, but Rambley seems to have a tendency to become more animated and use more in-between frames the more he opens up and/or deviates from what was likely programmed into him. However, I don't think this is an automatic or unconscious thing, but is instead an active choice to communicate genuineness and sincerity. He has been left running without pause for almost eight years, which as far as I know is Very Bad for computers, so if anything I'd be shocked if he had the remaining system resources to fluidly animate himself 24/7; as such, I think he physically can't do the higher-quality, more fluid animations all the time, so he chooses to save them for when it "matters" most.

[chosos-mascara]

a white christmas

𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙤 𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙤 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - you and your daughter spend christmas with choso and yuji.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 - fluff, like super tooth rotting fluff, big bro!choso, single mother!reader, smut, spit k!nk, unprotected sex, creampie

minors + ageless dni! 3.2k words

Choso Kamo had lived in the neighboring apartment, along with his younger brother, Yuji. You'd seen the pair in passing a handful of times since moving in, the small pink haired boy meeting the gaze of your daughter, Aiya, a wide grin shared between the two children, a polite glance between their guardians. It had been the beginning of October when Yuji had finally spoken to your child in a soft tone, asking where she'd gotten the toy car she'd grasped firmly within her grip, the packaging within the bottom of your shopping bag. 

"My mommy got it for me!" She'd exclaimed with a grin, pushing the small toy forward to wave within his face. Yuji's eyes had spread wide, a sparkle within them as he'd watched her spin the wheels along the wall between both apartment doors. When he'd smiled along with her, you'd noticed a gap between two teeth, most likely accompanied by a visit from the tooth-fairy. He'd been older than your child, around eight or nine while Aiya had been five, though despite her age, she'd acted with maturity. She'd been a handful, an overwhelmingly boisterous nature, confident in her ways and energetic, though her perceptiveness had aided you when you'd been lower, Aiya's comforting hugs always there to comfort you when you hadn't known you'd needed one. 

"Mommy," Aiya turned to you once she'd finished flaunting the plastic car in Yuji's face. "Could Yuji play with us?" The innocent question had been accompanied by a pair of ample puppy-dog eyes, an expression she'd learned far too quickly would get her own way. You glanced to the small frame of Yuji, and finally, the black haired male stood beside him.

Truth be told, you'd had a crush on Choso. Black hair falling to kiss his shoulders, a tattoo across his face and nails painted to match the dark clothes he'd worn. He'd often looked tired, caring for a child of his own, and yet the expression he'd had was always filled with care, his attentive nature visible through his loving gaze. Sometimes, you'd recognize the music from bands you'd enjoyed blaring through the apartment walls, a gentle reminder of the male who'd resided only an apartment from your own. 

As heat had radiated through your body at the thought of Choso in your apartment, you'd glanced to him, seeking guidance for the question our daughter had abruptly asked.  "Is that okay?" You quizzed, feighning off the awkwardness you'd felt flowing through you as you'd spoken to him. He'd nodded, lips curving into a small, reassuring smile.  "Sure." Voice soft, he reached to pat Yuji on the shoulder, pushing him toward the apartment door you'd been stood before. 

The four of you passed through your hall, Aiya leading the way. She'd skipped toward the contraction you'd known she'd wished to show off, a hot wheels track towering tall within the center of the lounge, a collection of cars parked at the base. The track had been something the pair of you had worked to build between you, partially made up from the authentic hot wheels kit, and then as it had gotten closer to the rug, cardboard making up the chute. It had started two foot above the coffee table, ending at the carpeted floor. Aiya climbed onto the table to teach the top, putting a car through the toilet-roll tube you'd taped to the top, allowing it to whiz down the track. Yuji gasped as the toy turned the corner, running closer to inspect each plate of plastic, the fast wheels of the car whirring.

"Do another car." Yuji shouted, picking up a blue car from the assortment neatly lined up on the rug, passing it to Aiya. She'd repeated the action, this car exhibiting less speed, though more agile. A giggle passed your lips as your daughter's excited gaze met your own, hand raising to beckon you forward and pick a car from the line-up. You glanced over the assortment, eventually landing upon the first car you'd bought her, one she'd cried over in the store when you'd asked if she'd been sure that's what she'd wanted. Of course, this was a mistake on your part - Aiya had adored cars with all of her being. You'd been unsure why, but fed into the small obsession anyway, allowing her to collect more over time, many evenings spent playing together.

Taking your place beside your daughter, you hadn't needed to stand on the furniture to reach the top, instead remaining with your feet on the carpet, arm outstretched. Your car had been slower than the others, and as it had been a little more dated, it had clattered along the track, hitting the lip and almost toppling off multiple times, though eventually making it to the bottom. Aiya clapped her hands together before looking hopefully toward the final person within the group, Choso. 

"It's the man's turn!" She declared, small finger pointing in his direction. You couldn't help but laugh, her explosive personality evident within moments of meeting others as he'd let a deep chuckle through his chest. His smooth, honey-like laughter had caused your cheeks to heat up, though you'd suppressed the thought as you'd instead watched the interaction before you. Choso had picked the truck, standing the other side of the track beside his brother, towering above the construction in both height and broadness, large hand making the toy look considerably smaller than it had in Aiya's, or your own. The truck had barely fit within the toilet tube, but with his index finger he'd pushed it through With such a square and bulky design, the truck had crashed into the lip of the track on the first corner, flying off the plastic to instead hit the floor. Aiya broke out in laughter at the display, a smile wide on Choso's cheeks as he'd glanced to the fallen toy. Yuji giggled along too.

This had marked the beginning of Aiya and Yuji's friendship. Although the interactions had been sparse to begin with, you'd soon exchanged numbers with Choso, and from time to time you'd babysat for one another. Over the span of a few months, the four of you had grown closer, so when you'd woken on Christmas morning to a thick blanket of snow coating the streets below, you'd entertained the idea of asking Yuji to play. A quick text to Choso after Aiya had excitedly opened her gifts, and you'd been at their apartment door. 

"Come on!" Aiya had exclaimed, moving her arms upward to ushered Yuji from the apartment, though the thickness of her coat and the jumper beneath had restricted movement, so instead of ushering him, she'd been left to awkwardly wave. He'd smiled, the half grown back tooth displayed clearly before he'd turned on his heel to grab his coat.  "Come in, I'll get my jacket." Choso's voice was soft as he tucked his hair behind his ear, stepping forward to allow space. Aiya flew through the gap immediately, running to catch up with Yuji, while you'd slipped through at a much slower pace, stomach churning with anxiety when you'd stepped into his home, embraced by his scent when approaching his lounge.  

Beside the lounge door, Aiya had been helplessly attempting to aid Yuji with zipping his jacket, the small metal of the zip unable to be grasped between the knitted mittens. You giggled at the display, walking over to take over, doing up the coat and pulling the hood over his pink hair.  "Did you get anything nice this morning?" You questioned, glancing to the tree decorated beside the window in multicolored lights, mismatched baubles you'd assumed Yuji had placed himself. There had been a pile of wrapping paper, with a few presents littered around the room, cardboard packaging discarded nearby. Yuji had nodded, pointing to the couch which had housed a few toy cars, similar to Aiya's. 

"Santa got me hot wheels!" Yuji had shrieked, to which Aiya had begun running toward the couch, inspecting the toys. He'd followed suit, showing his favourite to her adorning gaze, jumping up and down. 

Choso stood in the doorway of the room, hair now sitting beneath a black beanie, his coat zipped to his chest, where the length of a scary had been displayed through the gap. He'd led the way, the kids between yourself and him as they'd skipped down the steps leading to the building's main door. When he'd opened it wide enough for all of you to step through, the freezing air had hit your face, but you'd ventured out into the snow nonetheless.

It had been ankle deep, Aiya screaming and grabbing fistfulls to throw at Yuji after traipsing into the community gardens.  "Are you seeing family today?" You questioned Choso while the kids had ran circles around you, occasionally landing a hit on one another through breathlessly sprinting.  "We don't really have any family." He'd replied, placing his hands into his coat pockets for warmth. "You?" Shaking your head at the question, you'd replied with a simple no, taking your eyes from Aiya to glance over his face. 

Choso's skin was pale, the thick black tattoo setting over the middle of his face had contrasted in color, and within the cold winter, there had been a tinge of red setting over the tip of his nose.  "You could-" He began, brown eyes meeting your own. "You could have dinner with us, if you'd like." His voice was low, stare fixed on your own as he'd awaited your response. You'd smiled wide, thinking for a moment before graciously nodding. Aiya and Yuji's screams escalated to a louder pitch as he'd caught up to her. 

A small hand had suddenly met with your thigh as Aiya had attempted to protect herself from the large snowball flying from Yuji's hands. Mouth widening, you shrieked, the cold snow hitting your legs and coating the leggings you'd worn in a thin layer of water. Yuji's smile had contorted into a frown as he'd backed up, fear riddling his features as he'd waited to be scolded, though  instead, he'd been met with a snowball. Gasping in shock, he looked at the melting white crystals across his jacket, and then to your empty hand. Shouting, he picked up more snow, tossing it your way, Aiya soon joining his side to make smaller, lopsided spheres.

"It's two against one!" You'd laughed, bringing your arms to block your face from the incoming attack. Through a gap in your arms, you'd watched a snowball fly in the opposite direction, much larger than the ones they'd created, crashing between them. Turning your head to the source, your eyes landed on Choso's gloved hand, freshly coated in snow.  "Not anymore." Choso spoke, teeth displayed through a grin. The kids screamed, running to hide behind a bench as yourself and Choso had ran to them, snow in hand. 

It had taken thirty minutes before the children began to complain they'd been too cold, and an hour before you'd returned to Choso's apartment, this time the scent of roasted vegetables mingling within your nose, tummy rumbling. While he'd plated up dinner, you'd entertained the children with a game of charades, and post-meal, the four of you had sat on the couch with full stomachs. 

"I can't believe they lasted so long." Laughing, you'd watched Choso shuffle through the lounge to return with a bottle of wine, the red liquid filling glasses set out on the coffee table. He nodded, handing a drink to you before sinking into the couch. There had been a choir singing carols on the television before you, soft melody of voices accompanied by the warm tones of candle-light, and orange bulb within the aged lamp beside you. 

"Do you have any other siblings?" You asked, taking a sip while keeping your gaze on the screen before you. Choso shifted beside you, wide stance causing his thigh to brush over yours.  "We do, but family is a sensitive topic." His voice had been low as you'd nodded in agreement, attempting to offer solace with your own situation.  "Yeah, that's... relatable." You sighed, flickering your gaze to him. He'd raised his hand, before uttering a few words in the form of a toast. "To shitty family?" Choso  questioned, tilting his glass toward you. Laughing, you tapped yours to his, a gentle ting as both had collided.

Once each of you had taken a sip, attempting to focus on the television before you opposed to the pounding in your chests, Choso broke the silence. "You're a single mother?" He reached forward to place his glass on the table before you, then turning his body to face your own.  "Yeah, her father was a piece of work - I left while pregnant." Choso wouldn't push you further, though raised a brow at the explanation, upset expression mirroring his internal monologue as he'd hoped the statement hadn't alluded toward anything traumatizing.  "When Yuji was four, we left. Thankfully, our parents never filed a missing person's report or bothered to look for us; nicest thing they've ever done." His story had been a difficult one, too.  "You're doing really well, you know?" Reassurance had been something you'd wished you'd gotten more of, working hard to create a stable environement to house the child you'd cared deeply for with little recognition had been tiring. "Raising a whole person is so hard, and Yuji is so kind-hearted." 

Choso displayed a new expression, one you hadn't seen previously, and it had been difficult to read. His eyes shimmered under the amber light, lips curved upward and brows furrowing until he'd allowed a shaky breath to leave his lips, teeth protruding through his smile. 

You leaned forward, placing your lips softly against his. He'd immediately kissed back, hand trailing along your arm until his fingers wrapped around the glass you'd held, relieving your grasp and placing it on the table beside his own, before reconnecting with you. His touch had rested at the nape of your neck, grasping you tightly and pulling you as close as possible. The kiss you'd shared had been somewhat sloppy, the long day fatiguing your body with each movement, drool coating your lips quickly, and with the addition of tongue, you'd slipped among one another. 

Choso had held you lovingly, both hands placed over your body, his right clutching at your shoulder to hold you close, the left at your hip. You brought your own to cup his cheeks, the kiss slowing as he'd pulled you upward, your legs widening to cage around his thighs. With this, the grip on your neck was lifted, instead resting atop your hips. The hum of carols in the background drowned out by the leisurely tasting of one another, breaths ragged and fanning over the other's face between kisses, neither party wishing to pull away for more than a second. 

You dropped your hands to graze over his chest, fabric of the loose t-shirt he'd worn caressing your fingertips until you pushed them beneath the hem, this time sliding bare stomach and upward to chest. His skin was smooth, warmth seeping to you as you'd touched him with ease. Choso sighed into the kiss, a low groan as he'd appreciated your touch, anticipation bubbling between you as you'd pictured the near future in which you'd further the situation at hand. 

He slipped his fingers under your sweater, steadily drifting over your back with a light, feathery  touch. Your skin prickled under his, goosebumps bubbling over the surface in which he'd sailed over.  "I want you." A hushed whisper between elongated and disorganized kisses, a request that had Choso groaning again, squeezing over the skin of your hips as you'd rolled over him, in hopes he'd continue to action. 

Choso pulled at your trousers, slipping the fabric downward before you'd adjusted yourself to remove the garment entirely, then fumbling over the button of his jeans with impatience, laughing as he'd taken over to undo it himself, large hands gently pushing past yours. He'd pulled his jeans downward, cock springing upward once free. You'd internalized the gasp at the reveal, though couldn't hide your wide eyes, graciously lapping up the sight before you. 

His cock had sat at the height of his belly-button, neatly trimmed black hairs coating his groin and trailing up his stomach. Just as his features had been, his dick was pretty, pale skin and reddened tip already wet with precum. There had been no hesitation when you'd used your spit as lubrication when pumping over him a few times, his stomach sucking inward and a quivering breath leaving his lips at the contact, before lining yourself at his tip. Sinking down, he'd groaned louder than the small grunts he'd been allowing through parted lips previously, while you'd let out a sigh of relief. Choso sunk back into the couch behind him, alleviated features causing him to look beautifully at ease, softened cheeks, slackened lips fallen to part only a centimeter. His eyes hung heavy, watching you through half lidded eyes as you'd moved yourself on him, eventually allowing your cunt to graze his hilt. 

You bobbed, coming upward and then down, clit chafing against his groin once more and causing a lewd whine to fall from your lips. Choso brought a finger to his lips, a shushing motion as he glanced toward the hall.  "Don't want th' kids to hear." His soft whisper had been accompanied by his fingertip grazing your lips, slipping between them as he'd watched you take it within your mouth, gently sucking. Choso's head tilted backward, eyes squeezing shut as he'd inhaled deeply, attempting to control the pleasure he'd been encumbered by. From the way he'd kissed you before, you'd guessed he'd liked oral, or at least, saliva. 

You too his fingers into your mouth further, lips caressing knuckle as you'd silently gagged over him, his hips bucking at the action. From this, drool had gathered against your tongue, in which you'd allowed to pass through a small gap between your lips and his finger. A thick glob of spit had rolled down his hand, slowing when reaching his wrist.  "Oh, fuck." Choso moaned, loudly, hips bolting upward as he'd thrown his head back. You smiled around his finger, more drool pooling at his knuckles while his gaze bore into your own, pussy clenching over his bricked up member. Pulling his hand from your face, a pop when your mouth released him, you smirked at him.  "Shh, don't wanna wake the kids." Bringing his hand to his lips, he licked your drool from his hand, breath trembling with each maneuver, relishing the taste of your mouth in his own. 

"I'm- fuck." His whisper had been interrupted by cursing, head pressing back into the sofa cushion behind. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum." His voice had been at normal level now, louder than you'd wanted it to be given the circumstance, though as his deep tone had pooled over every word, the internal battle to remain quiet displayed across his face, you hadn't minded. Full concentration on the sounds he'd been making had dissipated as he'd came, stuttered ropes coating your insides against the muffled whines he'd made. His lips had been pursed shut, back arching from the sofa and hands gripping tightly at the fat of your hips. 

You'd sat on him breathlessly, body collapsing forward to rest on his as you'd smiled against his chest.  "Y're good at that." Choso spoke quietly through huffs, hands caressing your back once more as both of you had calmed.